


Got It Bad (In The Bad Place)

by TheZev



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, F/F, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZev/pseuds/TheZev
Summary: When in Hell, be sure to avoid accidentally insinuating that you test out spanking-based tortures with your girlcrush.





	Got It Bad (In The Bad Place)

“Andrea? Andrea Wallace?”

 

With a mental shrug—one of many shrugs Eleanor had mastered—she turned with a bright side to the demon who had just addressed her. “What up, my nig?”

 

“Jace,” the man reintroduced (or so he thought) himself. “You know, from Marketing? Remember, I came up with all that stuff about how the Satanic Temple is _so_ feminist? Shit, that got more idiots than Dungeons & Dragons.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eleanor agreed, nodding almost frantically. When attending a casual-dress party in a museum in hell, do as the inwardly tentacle-y demons do. “What’ve you been up to?”

 

“ _Me?_ What’ve you been up to? Last I heard, you finally got that transfer to Mildly Erotic Spankings.”

 

“Yeaaaaah… you know it,” Eleanor said. “But really, we’re nothing without Marketing. What’s the word over _there?”_

“Same old, same old. We’re trying to make goat-fucking trend on Twitter, it’s not going so well. But you guys, wow, I heard you’re getting Paul Ryan when he croaks.”

 

“Yup… got a place all… laid out.”

 

Thankfully, Eleanor heard a surprisingly good American accent before she was forced to elaborate. “There she is! Love to stay and chat, but coming here was my idea, she didn’t even want to go! She made me promise to stay right next to her and that is what I am going to do.”

 

Just like that, Rhonda Mumps—nee Tahani al-Jamil—was beside Eleanor, taking her arm. “Just play along,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

 

Jace was distracted by an exhibit on the first black person to call whites ‘mayo,’ so Eleanor was able to reply “You’re making this weird; you’re gonna blow my cover.”

 

“Your cover? Mine was hanging on by a thread! I was roped into a drinking game and it was my turn and the ‘drink’ was _Everclear.”_

“Oh hey,” Jace said, noticing Tahani, “you work with Andrea here?”

 

“Sure do!” Tahani replied, American again. “We work hard… but sometimes we’re _hardly working!”_

Jace laughed. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your line, anyway?”

 

“Quality assurance,” Tahani said confidently.

 

“You guys have your own QA department?”

 

“Oh yeah!” Eleanor interspersed. “We need specialists to test the belts and hairbrushes… all the real nitty-gritty stuff…”

 

“Yes, I try them out personally,” Tahani said.

 

Eleanor gave her two eyeballs’ worth of ‘…dude.”

 

“You mind giving us a demonstration?” Jace asked.

 

“Would I?” Tahani chuckled. “Just bring out a hairbrush and I’ll…”

 

“I don’t have anything on me,” Eleanor said. “We like to leave that stuff at the office. Yeah, back at Mildly Erotic Spankings.”

 

By now, one of Jace’s friends had joined the conversation. “Well, hey, if it’s just Mildly Erotic Spankings, what do you really need but your hand? It is supposed to be punishment for people who thought Fifty Shades of Grey was sexy.”

 

“Did I hear someone say Mildly Erotic Spankings?” a woman asked, coming over.

 

“Yeah, these two are in it,” Jace said. “Andrea’s the backbone of the whole operation and the tall glass of water beside her is one of the testers.”

 

Someone else looked askew at Tahani. “You’re the one who rubber-stamps all the spankings? What does that even look like?”

 

“She offered to give us a demonstration,” Jace said. “Andrea, you mind doing the honors? Have a bit of a busman’s holiday?”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly… I’m not in the headspace, my feng shui isn’t in wack…”

 

“Ha, good one!” the woman barked, pointing. Eleanor followed her finger to see that she was standing in front of the exhibit for The Guy Who First Made Feng Shui A ‘Thing’.

 

Tahani gulped. “Go on, E—Andrea. If all these people want to see our… quality assurance protocol, _we’d hate for them to leave unhappy._ Asking why two women from Mildly Erotic Spankings couldn’t do mildly erotic spankings.”

 

Eleanor rolled her eyes— _yeah, I got it._ “Okay then. Public display of affection, here we go… Rhonda, assume the position.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Tahani said, striking a pose. “I don’t really have a good side, as I try to shore up all 360 degrees of this, but I do like to lead with my left so my right has some novelty.”

 

“Not _that_ kind of position,” Eleanor growled, before remembering the crowd. “But way to keep things light!”

 

“Yes,” Tahani said Americanly. “We like to keep things living and laughing and loving down at MES.”

 

Eleanor cleared her throat. “Rhonda, pull down your undies and lean across that desk,” she said, pointing to the diorama for ‘First Use of Gifs In A Buzzfeed Article.’

 

Surprise registered on Tahani’s face, and not just because she’d never had an item of her clothing described as undies before. She really had not been ready for Eleanor to suddenly, seriously, speak to her in that harsh manner. For a moment, she argued with herself. _But this was your idea, Tahani. If getting a spanking from three-fourths of a New Jersey resident is what it takes for the team to succeed, then you’ll just have to go through with it. Besides, how bad can it be? Even Jay-Z said you had a lot of booty. That’s essentially padding.._

“Okay,” she slowly said. “I’ll do it.”

 

She began raising her dress.

 

Watching closely, Eleanor crossed her arms. “One more thing, _ho._ ” The crowd oohed and aahed, which Tahani felt was a bit much and Eleanor was somewhat gratified by. “No more of those little pauses like you’re thinking about whether you left the stove on. You’re in _my house._ You do what _I say._ You don’t need to think, got it? In fact, you might as well be reading a YA novel. From now on, you do _exactly_ as I tell you. No talking unless I ask you a question. No noise. No more dilly-dallying. _You get me?”_

Tahani tried to summon up the deference she’d shown Kate Middleton on her wedding day. Sometimes you just had to suffer through hardship, like driving a diesel car instead of electric. “Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, her voice so low that it could hardly be heard.

 

Again, she began raising her dress to get to her panties.

 

Eleanor’s glance flicked over Tahani. She was shocked by how excited she was for the other woman to go about all this. Maybe she was just interested in taking the alpha prep down a notch. And then her gazed rove downward until she got to Tahani’s shoes (incredible), slithering over Tahani’s smooth, creamy legs to get to them. As the hemline of Tahani’s dress was lifted, her stare rose with it.

 

Tahani uncomfortably noticed Eleanor’s gaze. Goodness! How much this felt like the one occasion when she’d been auctioned off as a date at a charity ball, and all those men had stared at her, thinking of how they could be in the company of such sartorial brilliance and conversational skills for an entire evening. But, of course, Eleanor was not at all the type to appreciate high fashion or penetrating dialogue. Just… getting high and being penetrated.

 

Tahani kept moving as she thought this, careful not to give Eleanor the impression she was hesitating. With her dress up all the way to her upper thighs, she reached up under her hem and hooked her fingers in her panties. Almost hesitating, but not quite—remembering Eleanor’s sharp voice calling her a gardening tool, of all the indignities—she drew them down to her ankles. She had to bend over to do it—a woman of Eleanor’s height might not, but she did. Her heart was beating wildly, as if Tom Waits were describing his creative process to her.

 

“That’s good,” Eleanor said. “But of course, I should expect a little slut like you to know how to take her clothes off.”

 

The crowd was practically cheering. Tahani wasn’t used to being in a crowd and hearing it cheering at something other than an Oscar being won. It was disconcerting.

 

“Now lie down across the desk and flip your dress up. I don’t want it in my way.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Tahani stammered. She wobbled a couple of steps to the diorama, stepping over the stanchion rope, then bending across the desk. Her face flushed, she slipped up the back of her dress. _They’re just demons, Tahani. They’re all really squids in human costumes. They’re not thinking at all about how you look without your panties—the effect is wasted on them. A shame, really…_

Then Tahani remembered that Eleanor was no demon; Eleanor was seeing her bare bottom.

 

She felt her ears burning.

 

Eleanor tried to stop staring.

 

Hiding whatever expression she might be making by pursing her hand on her chin, she stared with rapidly glazing eyes at that _thing_ Tahani called an ass. Jesus, you were supposed to sit on those. Why would one need to be that firm… and round… and have such an even crack in the middle? It wasn’t even a crack. It was more of a parting. Like a vale between two hills on a really nice golf course. And for such a tightass, Tahani looked like it would just take a little lube and some patience for _thangs_ to get interesting.

 

Tahani’s thoughts were not along the same lines. _Relax, Tahani. She’s just choosing how to best… spank you… without hurting you. She’s not staring. She’s going to spank you. That’s how she’s going to touch you. Not… any other way._

And so she laid there, silently waiting for the spanking she knew would come, had to be coming. The cool air caressed her ass in Eleanor’s stead, and she felt tingles of sensation where she thought Eleanor’s hand might land. It was exciting, in a way. At least, not unpleasant. She closed her eyes. _Spank me,_ she thought viciously. _Spank me, Eleanor._

Then she felt the cool touch of Eleanor’s hand on her ass. She almost gasped as a chill raced up her spine, back down, seemed to nestle between her legs. The hand lightly cupped one pert buttock and rubbed up over it, then down under it. Tahani felt a light slapping, like a childhood game of gluten-free patty cakes. First on one cheek, then on the other. Reflexively, Tahani tensed for a firmer hit. When Eleanor’s hand stopped, she braced herself even harder, until her whole body was clenched.

 

Eleanor had brought her hand far back behind her. Now she swung it.

 

With a resounding smack, Eleanor slapped Tahani’s ass. Tahani’s body jerked, not so much from the force of the blow as the surprise of the sensation. It didn’t hurt, not especially, but it was just so _intense._ Tahani could barely breathe!

 

Before her ass could stop quivering—and that took very little time indeed, as her ass was only .5% body fat—the next blow landed. This time, Tahani couldn’t keep from crying out.

 

“Hey!” Eleanor barked. “Shut the fuck up!”

 

And then, relishing the swear word—how the fuck did people fuck without _saying_ fuck?—Eleanor swung her hand into Tahani’s ass for the third time.

 

Tahani gripped the edge of the desk and willed herself to stop the cry of pain that was trembling on her lips. She felt her ass growing hotter as her cheeks swelled and turned crimson. The cry filling up her mouth became a moan. The soreness she felt after the hit stopped vibrating, it was fraught with something that wasn’t pain, but was just as sharp.

 

Tahani tried to ignore it and the pain both. She just laid there, her face twisted in a grimace as Eleanor kept slapping away at the ass she was so proud of. The pain shooting out from those horrid blows steadily took over her consciousness until she couldn’t think of anything else, until she couldn’t think at all! All she knew was the taut sensation of her bruised buttocks still being beaten. Lowering her mouth to the big oak desk beneath her, she tried to stifle her moans against it.

 

Suddenly, the beating stopped. Tahani put her head in her hands and lay still. Her ass was on fire. The rest of her was quivering and tingling in shock. It took a long time for her breathing to slow, but not long at all for her to realize that she was wet. In fact, she was dripping down her thighs in a steady wet trickle. And Eleanor had a clear, unobstructed view between her legs.

 

She felt Eleanor’s hands on her shoulders, helping her back upright. She tried to close her thighs together as she did so—but had Eleanor already seen? And why would she be looking in the first place?”

 

“So yeah,” Eleanor said, “some guy’s doing a kegstand in front of The First Girl To Start A Fight With Her Boyfriend Because She Was Bored. Everyone’s watching _him._ And, uh… that does it for me touching your ass. Have to touch your own ass from now on.”

 

“Yes,” Tahani said, “quite… I have to go. Would you like…?” she asked with automatic solicitousness.

 

“Would I like what?” Eleanor replied.

 

“Nothing. Just being polite… I’m going to go look for Michael, he must be back by now.”

 

As Tahani left, Eleanor realized she hadn’t bothered to put her panties back on. They were still on the floor. Eleanor picked them up and felt how soft they were and put them in her pocket. She didn’t call out to Tahani.

 

 _Later,_ she thought. _I’ll tell her later. She can go without panties for once in, like, a bazillion years._

Then Eleanor stopped thinking and just stared at Tahani’s dress—where it jutted out with her hips—as the woman walked away.


End file.
